By Jordy Luke (He/They)
foundation year, undergraduate anthropology student at Goldsmiths, University of London
jbarl001@gold.ac.uk
Abstract
Gay cruising has been synonymous with gay culture since ancient times yet its existence in recent decades is seemingly being threatened by the rise of gay social media. This research paper explores the changing sexual behaviours of men seeking men by investigating the relationship between traditional cruising and organised sex via apps and gay websites. Using anthropological research methods and exploring themes of sexuality, the digital and queer subculture my study shows that cruising is a continuously evolving concept.
Keywords: gay cruising, queer, Grindr, sexuality
Introduction
It is March 2021. The UK is amid a full national lockdown, and I am, along with many others taking an afternoon stroll on a rare sunny day in one of London’s many green spaces (see figure 1). This park is one of London’s largest; while notable for its stunning landscapes, it’s also home to a little talked about queer subculture: cruising. I’ve purposely come to this area of London as it’s known to be one of the busiest cruising locations in the world. I also know as I sit here, numerous men are ready and waiting to have sex. I know their name, age, HIV status, the area they live in, previous sexual partners, their favourite sexual position… the list goes on. I know all these thanks to the website Squirt.org, an online platform created specifically for gay cruising. Defined in its simplest form, cruising is the act of men seeking anonymous sex from other men. If that is so, and I have all this information before a meeting, is this still anonymous sex? My research starts here; I want to know what cruising is in this post-digital era. Have online platforms and smartphones killed the traditional practice of anonymous sex? My results were ambiguous, but I argue that no, this is still cruising, just an adapted version, a cruising 2.0 if you will.

The Exclusivity of Cruising
Throughout this essay, I’ll be referring to people who cruise. Yet, I want to clarify that I’m only referring to people who identify as men seeking sex with other men. Cruising is defined specifically as sexual activity between men. This isn’t to exclude other gender identities — the act of different genders involved in public anonymous sex falls under a different subcategory.
While my research is primarily focused on the sexual behaviours of men seeking men, these behaviours aren’t exclusive to gay cis-gendered men. Transgendered men, bisexual men and straight men can join gay social media and the cruising community if the intention is to be seeking another male partner. My research does not focus on how one identifies as this is part of a much wider conversation in the anthropological field (Weston, 1993; Boyce, Engelbretson & Posocco, 2018). My questions address the sexual habits of anonymous sex between men considering on and offline practices.
In the 1990s anthropologists turned to consider sexuality in new ways. This can be seen in Vance’s (1991) work where she identifies problems in previous decades in the discipline, of sexuality, in particular queer sexualities, being ignored. She draws attention to new questions about identity, gender politics, and the natural. Around the same time, Butler (1990) published her highly influential book Gender Trouble. By 2007, Boellstorff (2007) recognised that queer studies was still marginal in anthropology. A decade later Boyce et al were referring to a queer anthropology as a necessary subcategory of the field that addresses lived experiences. This can also be seen in Shields (2018) work on Grindr which addresses queer relationships through the digital.
Keeping the Anonymous: Anonymous and Staying Ethical
When conducting research, ethics must be the main priority for any anthropologist, as we are studying real people and collecting potentially sensitive information, especially within my chosen topic. Laud Humphreys (1970), a sociologist who also studied public sex in his book Tearoom Trade, provided an interesting case study of how not to present my research with his unethical sharing of personal information which could identify participants easily. I knew choosing to study the cruising community would create obstacles as the community is mainly anonymous and notoriously secret. Ongoing lockdown restrictions due to the COVID-19 pandemic also made in-person meetings extremely difficult. I’ve taken inspiration from the work of Miller (2016) and his social media ethnography, which uses traditional anthropological theories and adapts them for the study of the online world. Accordingly, I began to focus my research on the relationship between cruising and the rise of gay social media apps. As anthropologist Christian Phillips (2015) mentions in their study of gay social media, ‘gay men pioneered social users of the internet and were among the first to search the corners of cyberspace for sex partners’ (pp. 71). With more people than ever now having access to smartphones and the internet, I believe the relationship between anonymous sex and social media is a crucial concept to study.
I will refer to Grindr numerous times over the course of this research paper, as it was one of the prominent platforms used to conduct my research. Users know Grindr as a ‘hook-up’ app, usually meant for short term sexual relations. As Grindr houses intimate details it is essential to note any participants’ identities are entirely anonymous, and full permission has been given to include details of conversations made through the app. Another anthropologist whom I’ve taken inspiration from is Andrew DJ Shield (2018), who researched LGBT immigrants within Copenhagen and their use of Grindr:
‘most Grindr users expect discretion and privacy, and thus I avoid personally identifiable information. Direct quotations from profiles cannot be readily linked to individual profiles since Grindr texts are not searchable and web-based engines like Google’.
(pp. 153)
The discretion and privacy Shield speaks of is suitably related to my research on Grindr and the quantitative research I conducted through the social news sharing website Reddit. While this is not primarily a gay website, Reddit allows for virtual communities to form on the website and calls these a sub-Reddit, many queer communities are members of the website making it a vital place for me to gather information virtually. Another gay social media website I’ll be referring to is Squirt, this website differs from Grindr as it sells itself as an online platform for cruising rather than a dating or hook up service
Unfortunately, as the pandemic didn’t allow for in-person meetings, I decided to create an anonymous survey which asked questions related to cruising and social media. For optimum reach, I posted the survey onto a forum within Reddit where gay men can ask questions about LGBTQ+ culture. I explained that the survey would be completely anonymous, and that the data will be used as part of a university research project. Ultimately, I received 60 responses which provided me with a great deal of information and data. The respondents showed that cruising has adapted to the digital world of the twenty-first century.
Cruising vs Grindr
As the online world has become more and more part of contemporary life, arguments of what we class as ‘real’ have been contested many times over. This is the same for my research between Grindr (the digital) and cruising (the real). Since the turn of the millennium, we’ve seen a new type of growth in society, a digital development, as anthropologist Christian Phillips (2015) explains:
‘Internet and new mobile technologies have given birth to a revolution in the sphere of human relationships. It has not only changed the way we meet people but also how we interact with acquaintances. From daily small talk to very intimate moments, these services act as a platform for our needs, marketing a new era of social interaction’.
(2015:65)

Cruising is typically associated with gay men who previously used the activity as the only way to find other gay men for sexual relations. The changes Phillips identifies are crucial in the context of how gay men make relationships. The rise of digital media platforms allows for easier access to LGBTQ+ virtual spaces permitting gay men to meet other men in circumstances other than cruising. Arguably the most infamous of all LGBTQ+ social media is Grindr. In the survey I conducted, when asked which gay social media app you used most frequently, 52.5% said Grindr, with Scruff in second place with 15%. Grindr, launched in 2009, has firmly cemented a place within gay culture. it is a geographical location-based social media app, launched specifically for gay men to meet other gay men within their local area, usually for sexual intent.
Interestingly, Grindr and cruising do share many parallels as the primary use is for a short no strings attached (NSA) interaction. Through my observations of Grindr interactions, I can see the maximum separation between a Grindr hook-up, and a random cruising meet up is the planning and preparation that happens beforehand. Traditionally with Grindr, the etiquette would be a short greeting, picture exchange, and arranging where the meet up will occur. I have included a photo (see figure 2) of an interaction between two Grindr users; names and pictures have been hidden for the users’ privacy and full permission has been given.
Cruising 2.0
In my anonymous survey I asked, ‘Have you ever had an NSA sexual encounter through a gay dating app?’ 90% of my responses said yes. However, only 33.3% said yes when asked the same question, but in relation to cruising a public place instead. My research is telling me that there is a definite difference between the two types of meeting. One participant left an anonymous response, ‘My experience has been that cruising was more for older generations that came of age before the online meeting became common’. Linking to Christian Phillips’s 2015 study and the birth of new human relationships, I would argue that this generational difference is due to the rapid adoption of the internet into societies and the globalisation of LGBTQ+. Queer lifestyle has become more apparent, thus leading to more than one way for men seeking men to meet each other.
Another notable finding was when asked, ‘do you think an online hook-up is socially acceptable?’ 97.5% said yes. Interestingly, only 67.5% responded yes when asked, ‘do you think cruising is socially acceptable?’ I believe the lower percentage here to be due to the age ranges of participants within the survey, as the most common age was between 18-29 (55%). One anonymous user said:
‘I don’t think cruising is becoming obsolete. It may be less prevalent among very young people, but I still see it happening around me. Also, with Covid lockdowns and the closure of places where people would meet for sex – gay saunas, sex clubs etc, also the fear of getting infected by strangers in your home – cruising areas around me have become incredibly crowded’.
(Anonymous respondent 2021)
It seems that age is a common factor in determining who is likely to cruise. However, since the pandemic cruising activity has increased. This could be due to lockdown rules which specify home visits are not allowed. Apps like Grindr usually involve a home visit, while Squirt is aimed towards anonymous public meet ups.
Brandon Andrew Robinson and David A. Moskowitz (2013), two sociologists who researched the eroticism of online behaviour of men seeking men, said: ‘the Internet has become a crucial medium for many people to explore their sexuality, especially for men seeking other men for sexual purposes’ (pp.1). I found this to be the case in my data, especially in terms of the gay social media website, Squirt. Robinson and Moskowitz add, ‘the internet’s accessibility, affordability and anonymity have allowed men seeking men to experiment with sexual identities and behaviours’ (pp.1). Squirt does precisely this; it allows users to experiment with cruising and eliminate many dangers involved with traditional cruising. Users can review particular areas or comment if any homophobic activity has been noted in the area. This is important as attacks upon LGBTI+ people are still extremely common. Interestingly, in my survey, only 2.5% of participants answered to frequently using Squirt. However, I argue that the lower number is because Squirt is a website one has to pay a subscription fee for, while most other social media platforms are free.
As mentioned earlier, the preparation with how someone would plan their meet up seems to be the critical difference between cruising and a hook-up. Squirt does allow users to pre-plan their cruising meet ups; however, from my observation of the website, the planning is more aloof. One would leave a comment saying that they would be in an area for an afternoon, nothing too specific as anonymity is still part of the act. Users can choose to use real names on the site, but most users use pseudonyms. Squirt is an excellent example of what I mean when speaking of a cruising 2.0; we can link it to Lee Humphrey’s (2018) theory of media accounting. Media accounting traces the media we leave behind on whatever platform we are using. For example, on Squirt if a user writes a comment, that’s evidence of them being there and using the platform. However, Humphrey argues that this isn’t a new concept, ‘Media accountings are overlooked practices that reveal the ways we have incorporated media into our everyday lives for hundreds of years’ (pp.115). There is evidence of cruising dating thousands of years; people would leave markings on public walls to claim an area as a cruising location (Espinoza 2019); we can compare this to leaving a comment on a website. I suggest that a website like Squirt doesn’t lose its cruising credibility just because it is an online platform. It is an adapted version of cruising, and similar to how Instagram is seen as the twenty-first century version of a photo album.
Conclusion: Cruising is Here to Stay
While my responses from users are mixed concerning cruising, I wouldn’t argue that anonymous sex has been killed by online culture. I do believe cruising culture to have lost momentum within younger generations due to the broader acceptance of LGBTQ+ people across the world, but there certainly still is a surviving culture; it just may look different to how it did 50 years ago. The cruising community is adapting just like the world is, and I’m sure this won’t be its final form; for as long as there is sexual desire, I imagine there to be a desire for anonymous public sex.
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank Dr Helen Cornish and Dr Justin Woodman for continued support during a difficult academic year. They both provided incredible levels of support and went beyond their job role to help me, and my fellow peers complete the year.
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